


My Filthy Angel

by bringyourguns



Category: Rammstein
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Drama, Drug Addiction, F/M, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Multi, Pining, Porn With Plot, Sexual Tension, Slow Build, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-22
Updated: 2016-10-18
Packaged: 2018-04-10 16:53:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 18,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4399805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bringyourguns/pseuds/bringyourguns
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Richard gets more than he bargained for when he visits a strip club with Till.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Up, up, and away!” Till exclaims, pushing the small mirror across the table toward his bandmate.

 

Richard eyes the neat lines of powder skeptically.

 

Till’s drug use has become a bit excessive since his relationship fell apart. Richard doesn't want to endorse this behaviour. But on the other hand, maybe they could have that talk tomorrow. Till’s mood has lightened since the afternoon and he doesn't want to be the one to spoil it.

 

Till stares at Richard expectantly, offering the rolled bill.

 

Richard lets out the breath he had been holding and accepts it.

 

Fuck it. It's pretty dark at the back of the club. And Till has already taken his. Richard wants to be on the same level.

 

He plugs one nostril and quickly inhales one of the lines, pinching the bridge of his nose when he feels the familiar chemical burn at the back of his throat. He squints up at Till through watering eyes.

 

“Shit, that’s harsh,” he complains.

 

“Pussy,” Till chides.

 

“You’re just too drunk to notice,” Richard scoffs, rubbing his nose delicately.

 

“You’re not drunk enough. And you’ll be thanking me in a minute. It makes you wanna fuck like crazy,” Till explains loudly.

 

“You don’t need any help with that, Lindemann,” Richard laughs, rolling his eyes. He reaches for his pack of cigarettes on the table and lights one.

 

Till tips his head back to down the last of his drink and immediately signals a waitress for another.

 

Richard leans back in his seat and takes a long swig of his own drink, partly to wash away the nasty drip at the back of his throat and partly to help himself relax.

 

“I hope my girl is here tonight,” Till says, tucking his drug paraphernalia away into his inside coat pocket.

 

“Your girl? Do you come here a lot or something?” Richard asks.

 

“Just wait. You’ll love her,” Till smirks, surveying the club. He reminds Richard of a really big kid in a candy store whenever they go to places like this.

 

Richard likes strippers too, and lap dances, of course. But since Till had chosen this place, it was safe to assume you could get more than just a dance here.

 

Richard prefers sexual contact he doesn't have to pay for. There is no need to pay, as a member of famous band, and free sex is better for the ego, but he suspects his friend gets off on the perversity of exchanging money pleasure, among other things.

 

Noticing Till’s eyes following her, a busty stripper saunters lazily over to their booth in a way that reminds Richard of a predatory cat. Her heels click on the polished floor through the din of the music.

 

“Hey boys, how are you doin’ tonight?” she purrs, sliding gracefully into the booth next to Till. Her skimpy PVC outfit squeak against the leather seat.

 

“Couldn’t be better now. You’re just what my night was missing,” Till tells her sincerely, eyeing the ample cleavage spilling out of her top with overt fascination.

 

The woman giggles, tossing her mane of blonde hair over her shoulder. His friend definitely has a type, Richard muses.

 

“I’m hurt. My company isn’t enough for you?” Richard jokes.

 

“Not unless you’re going to suck my dick,” Till replies plainly, meeting Richard’s eyes with a level gaze. Richard laughs awkwardly, nearly choking on his drink. He feels his cheeks redden and hopes the club is dark enough that Till didn't notice.

 

“You haven’t sufficiently romanced me, asshole,” he retorts, after he re-gains his composure.

 

“Sure I have. I gave you drugs, didn’t I?” Till says with a cheeky grin.

 

“Classy,” Richard shoots back.

 

“Are you two looking to have a little fun?” The woman whispers huskily, her face inches from Till’s stubbly cheek.

 

“I want to have more than just a little,” Till growls, pulling her onto his lap. The woman settles herself on Till and Richard tactfully averts his eyes, taking another sip of his drink. He isn't sure how long he’ll stick around if his friend decides to get a private room.

 

“Reesh, this is Angel,” Till introduces the woman. His eyes are darker with lust, and the large hand on the woman’s petite waist inches gradually upward toward her breasts.

 

“Richard,” he introduces himself, taking her hand.

 

“Nice to meet you Richard. I love guys who wear eyeliner,” she winks, and Till laughs.

 

“That’s perfect. Richard likes having his ego stroked even more than his cock,” he teases.

 

“I’ll stroke you anywhere you want,” she whispers, “that’s what I do best”.

 

“What do you say, Kruspe? Are you gonna be a pussy or are you gonna fuck one?” Till asks, raising an eyebrow.

 

“I’m sure you’ll have enough fun for both of us, Till. I think I might call it a night,” Richard smiles politely, ignoring Till’s jab. He stubs out his cigarette and reaches for the jacket on the seat next to him.

 

Till’s brow furrows.

 

“Go sit on his lap and make him change his mind,” Till orders Angel, meeting Richard’s apprehensive gaze with a look of defiance.

 

Before Richard can get up, the woman is seated on him, her plush bottom pressed snugly to his groin. She begins to wriggle slowly against him, and a delicate hand slips inside his button-down shirt to caress his chest.

 

Richard doesn't notice he accidentally let out a soft sigh of appreciation until he hears Till laugh.

 

“She’s good, isn’t she? She knows just what to do,” Till remarks, looking pleased with himself. He leans back happily as a waitress arrives to deliver his drink and takes a thirsty mouthful of it immediately.

 

Angel’s red lips turn upward at the corners with a smug smile when she feels Richard begin to respond to her expert ministrations. The intoxicants he consumed are already ebbing away his resolve to leave.

 

“Mmm, you like that, don’t you?” she coos.

 

Well, that is undeniable.

 

“What can I say, you’ve got a lovely ass,” Richard murmurs, and Angel giggles.

 

He closes his eyes and allows himself to focus on the pleasure again for a moment, but he can’t fully relax when he can feel his friend’s piercing eyes on them. He mentally tries to will his erection to go down.

 

“Listen, I really should go. You’re amazing, sweetheart, but this is a little more than I was looking for tonight,” Richard tells the woman, pressing a polite kiss to her cheek.

 

He quickly swallows the last of his drink and waits for her to get up, eager to leave before things got too weird. He is starting to suspect it isn't cocaine Till gave him.

 

To Richard’s dismay, Angel looks to Till, waiting for his cue.

 

“Stay,” Till instructs her – both of them.

 

She looks pleased by Till’s verdict and unapologetically resumes her pelvic gyrations. Her fingers dance against the underside of Richard’s jaw, curiously examining the black leather collar around his neck.

 

“Ooh, I like that,” she smiles wickedly, tugging gently on it.

 

Richard feels his cock twitch in response. Unbidden, he pictures the woman on top of him, her hands wrapped loosely around his neck and his own hands on her smooth round hips, holding her down on his cock.

 

He opens his eyes. He hadn’t realized they had been closed. Till is still staring at them both eagerly, a look of obvious arousal on his face.

 

“We need a private room,” Till tells the woman matter-of-factly.

 

Angel seems happy to oblige. She rises to her feet and offers her hand to Richard, enticing him to follow.

 

“And you’re coming,” Till tells Richard quickly, before he can object again. He chuckles to himself at his double entendre.

 

Richard’s nagging apprehension is softening into a comfortable warm glow, and all he can think about are the soft curves of Angel’s body.

 

“Alright,” he concedes breathlessly, erection straining against his pants. He feels vaguely surprised at himself for how easily he agrees, but his brain feels too pleasantly warm and fuzzy to dwell on it for long.

 

They follow Angel down a darkened hallway, past the dancer’s dressing rooms, into a dimly lit red-painted room with a leather couch and a low table scattered with candles.

 

Till closes the door behind them with a gentleness that hadn’t been present in him throughout the evening.

 

It surprises Richard for some reason, and suddenly it sinks in that he and Till are about to share a sexual encounter. He has been in the same room while Till was having sex with women on many occasions, but he has never shared a woman with his friend before, or with any man.

 

“Are you sure I’ll be enough for both of you boys?” Angel asks Till.

 

“Yes,” Till replies firmly, and Richard shivers pleasantly at the finality in his voice without knowing why.

 

He isn't sure what he is in for, but his cock is eager to find out.

 

Till makes his way to the couch and sinks into it, folding a leg over his knee. Richard stands there awkwardly in the middle of the room, unsure of what to do next. Thankfully Till wastes no time taking charge.

 

“Undress him,” Till instructs Angel.

 

She steps toward Richard. With her tall black dangerous-looking high heels she is the same height as him.

 

“May I?” She smiles, already unfastening the top button. Richard nods in a daze.

 

The way her hands brush against his bare chest as she works her way down his shirt light his nerves on fire. Till was right about the drugs. Every little sensation is amplified tenfold.

 

Angel removes his belt and tugs his pants down along with his briefs. He carefully steps out of his clothes. His skin feels hot and cold at the same time, and his muscles feel deliciously liquid.

 

She circles Richard, admiring his body.

 

“Nice ass,” she says, giving it a playful slap.

 

“Thank you,” Richard smiles.

 

“Do it again,” Till tells Angel. “Except harder. I bet he likes it hard.”

 

Angel slaps his ass again with a loud smack and Richard inhales sharply. A red hand-shaped mark is forming on his skin where she struck him.

 

“I knew it,” Till chuckles.

 

Till is palming himself languidly overtop of his pants, watching them. Richard finds it a bit odd to see his friend casually touching himself, even if he should have known it would happen.

 

He wonders if Till is admiring both of them or just Angel.

 

“Pleasure him,” Till tells Angel. “Show him how good you are at sucking cock.”

 

“I am really good. Would you like that?” Angel asks Richard, tracing his jaw line with a finger.

 

“I would love that,” he breathes.

 

She pulls Richard toward her by the collar around his neck and gives him a quick kiss on the lips before sinking to her knees in front of him.

 

A hand circles around the base of his cock, and a hot tongue begins to lap wantonly at the underside, slicking him with saliva.

 

Richard can't hold back a moan when her wet mouth finally engulfs him. She begins to bob her head, working her tongue against him at the same time.

 

“Fuck,” Richard pants, overwhelmed by the sensations.

 

Each time her head descends a wave of pleasure washes over his body, each more powerful than the last. Her expert mouth gradually increases the suction.

 

Till was right, she is talented. He wonders how many times she has done this for him. He looks over at his friend. Till has a hand down the front of his pants now and is working himself in time with Angel’s rhythm.

 

Making accidental eye contact with Till while a mouth is wrapped around his cock is unexpectedly intense. Till’s lips are parted slightly and he looks hungry with lust. He wonders if that is the face Till makes while he is fucking someone.

 

Angel’s free hand snakes its way up his thigh to cradle his balls and Richard moans at the contact.

 

“Fuck! You’re gonna--” Richard exclaims. He bites his lip and squeezes his eyes shut, trying desperately to hold himself back. He cups the sides of Angel’s head, fingers twined in her thick hair.

 

“Stop,” Till commands, and there is a wet sound as Angel releases Richard from her mouth immediately. She sits back on her haunches and wipes the saliva from the corner of her mouth with a finger.

 

“What?” Richard asks, incredulous.

 

“We’ve just started,” Till grins, pulling his hand out of his pants.

 

“How is this going to work? Are we going to take turns, or are you going to join in?”  Richard asks, impatient at having his pleasure interrupted despite the way his brain is melting.

 

“Would you like me to?” Till replies. It sounds like something Till would normally say to tease him, but he hadn’t used a mocking tone.

 

“May I make suggestion?” Angel asks, rising to her feet next to Richard.

 

“Of course, my dear, I love your suggestions,” Till replies, motioning for Angel to join him on the couch.

 

She saunters over and sits down next to him, crossing her long legs, and begins to smooth the inside of his thigh with her palm.

 

“Why doesn’t Richard undress you?” she asks, smiling sweetly at Till like a child asking a parent for a special treat.

 

Richard looks at Till, curious to see his reaction to her proposal. He feels like he should have some say in this.

 

“It would really turn me on if you would do that for me,” Angel’s sultry voice interrupts his racing thoughts.

 

“Wouldn’t want to disappoint the lady,” Till smiles easily, shrugging. He rises from the couch and crosses the room to where Richard is standing.

 

Richard is aware of Till’s slight height advantage when they stand this close together, and how Till is bigger in other ways. He has seen the singer in the nude enough times on non-sexual occasions to know that his dick is no exception either.

 

Richard’s erection has softened now that it is no longer receiving Angel’s attention, and partly out of nerves, but not completely. The idea of unclothing Till seems daunting – weirdly more intimate than seeing the singer touch himself.

 

He looks up at Till nervously. There is a gentle smile on his friend’s face, meant to reassure him. It works. Till actually looks a little bit self-conscious himself, but he indicates his permission for Richard to begin with a small nod.

 

Richard clutches the hem of Till’s t-shirt and works it up over his friend’s broad muscular chest, taking in the silvery scars scattered across tanned skin. His bare skin feels hot and sweaty against Richard’s hands.

 

He can feel Till holding his breath, abdomen still against his hands. Is he really nervous, after all of his lewd comments throughout the evening?

 

Till raises his arms so Richard can free him from the shirt.

 

“Now release the beast,” Till jokes to cut the tension, making an emphatic gesture with his hands, and Richard laughs.

 

“Please tell me you don’t actually call it that,” Richard replies.

 

“I don’t, but maybe I’ll start,” Till grins.

 

The button and zipper of Till’s pants are already undone from earlier.

 

Richard tugs on the pants and stoops to one knee to work them down over Till’s thighs and his Till’s hard dick bobs out. No underwear, apparently. Go figure. Richard blushes furiously.

 

Till’s dark public hair is natural, unlike Richard’s, which he keeps neatly trimmed.

 

“Stay like that for a second,” Angel tells them.

 

“Like what?” Richard asks her.

 

“Just… I love the sight of you at his feet,” Angel purrs. Her legs are splayed on the couch and she iss rubbing herself slowly inside of her black PVC shorts. Crouched in front of Till, Richard savours the sight of her touching herself.

 

She observes them for another moment before rising from the couch to join them.

 

Standing behind Richard’s crouched form, she begins to run her fingers through his hair and he sighs happily at the tingles it sends down his spine.

 

Richard feels her lean forward, her thighs pressing against his back, and realizes she kissing Till above him. He listens to the wet sounds and their breathy noises of pleasure and reaches down to touch himself.

 

Feeling Richard shift against her, Angel breaks away from the kiss and they both looked down at him. His hand on his cock slows self-consciously.

 

“Don’t stop,” she encourages him.

 

She takes Till’s cock with one hand and begins to work him, with one hand still entwined in Richard’s hair. Till makes a low rumble of pleasure at the attention he is receiving.

 

“Has he ever sucked your cock before?” Angel purrs against Till’s neck as she strokes him.

 

Till shakes his head slowly, eyes closed. Richard’s eyes widen slightly at her comment, but he continues to stroke himself.

 

“Have you ever sucked anybody’s cock before?” Angel asks Richard, gazing down at him.

 

“No,” Richard replies quickly.

 

“Would you do it?” She murmurs.

 

“I, um… I wouldn’t know what to do. I don’t think I--” he struggles for an appropriate response. He definitely hadn’t been expecting the question.

 

“Watch me and learn,” she says, crouching down next to him in front of Till.

 

Still holding Till’s cock with one hand, she begins to lap at it with her tongue, eyes studying Richard’s face as she moves up and down his length.

 

Richard feels a surge of pleasure watching the way her wet mouth teases his flesh.

 

His legs felt shaky and everything looks soft and a little blurry. Being this close to Till’s cock feels surreal.

 

“Now you try,” she insists, voice husky with arousal.

 

Richard looks up again at Till, unsure of how his friend feels about her request. His friend’s eyes are heavy-lidded with satisfaction.

 

“Please Reesh,” he groans, breathing heavily.

 

Richard hesitates. This definitely isn’t how he thought his evening would go, but he can’t really think of a good reason to say no. He wants to make Till feel good. Till wants this. He wants to hear him make those sounds again. How bad could it be?

 

“Okay,” he agrees softly.

 

Angel’s eyes widen with delight and she moves over to give him more access.

 

Richard reaches up tentatively and wraps a hand around his friend. It feels hot in his hands. He leans in slowly and feels Till jerk in his hand with anticipation.

 

“I’ve always wondered what this would be like,” Till confesses suddenly, voice hoarse with arousal. It is hard not to be flattered, hearing Till’s admission, even though it catches him off guard.

 

Why had he never said anything about this before?

 

It is enough encouragement though, and Richard can’t possibly let him down now.

 

He sticks his tongue out and gingerly gives the underside of the head a small lick.

 

“Fuck,” Till moans, hips bucking forward involuntarily.

 

Richard licks Till again, this time with more courage thanks to Till’s obvious approval.

 

Angel leans in and begins to lick the other side of Till’s cock at the same time. Their tongues touch accidentally and Angel makes a soft sigh.

 

“Oh my god, this is perfect,” Till groans, head lolling back with ecstasy, as the two of them work beneath him.

 

Richard feels a large hand that is definitely not Angel’s settle on the back of his head, stroking the short hairs at the base of his skull reassuringly. He feels intensely wanted. He can’t believe those gentle fingers belong to Till.

 

Angel leans back to watch and pleasure herself once Richard has become more comfortable, tongue gliding up and down Till’s shaft.

 

Aroused now, and encouraged by the sounds Till is making, Richard takes a deep breath and allows the first few inches of Till’s cock into his mouth, hollowing his cheeks the way Angel had for him. He isn’t quite sure what to do next so he tries to duplicate the techniques that he enjoyed when he was on the receiving end.

 

Angel peels off her skimpy outfit while Richard is pleasuring Till and her large natural breasts hang free.

 

“Mmm. You look so hot like that, with a cock in your mouth” she hisses, slipping a finger inside herself.

 

Richard leans forward to take more of Till into his mouth and recoils suddenly, coughing and gagging, when Till’s member collides with the back of his throat. He had been nowhere close to reaching the base of it. His eyes water.

 

Angel sits up and strokes his lower back soothingly.

 

“Take it nice and slow. Don’t try to take the whole thing,” she giggles.

 

Richard looks up at Till apologetically.

 

“I’m sorry, I—“ he flounders.

 

“Reesh,” Till cuts him off, “this is so fucking hot. It feels so good. Please.”

 

He shivers at Till’s praise and tries again with renewed confidence. He begins to bob his head slowly, careful not to take Till in as deeply as before. He closes his eyes so he can concentrate on making his mouth into the right shape.

 

He feels a hand on his cock and realizes Angel is jerking him off, fingering herself vigorously at the same time. He moans around the cock in his mouth and Till’s hand tightens in his hair.

 

He can tell Till is struggling not to thrust into his throat, careful not to give him more than he can handle, but his hips still buck occasionally despite his efforts.

 

Richard concentrates hard to relax his throat, breathing through his nose, and he feels Till’s cock plunge in deeper. He can feel saliva trickling down his chin, but he is too aroused now to find it embarrassing.

 

He would do anything for Till, he realizes. He is aware that his mind was hazy with drugs, but it feels like it's always been true.

 

“That’s it, baby. You're doing so good,” Angel moans. Richard feels her grab a handful of his ass and squeeze roughly before giving it a hard smack. Richard makes a muffled noise of surprise.

 

“Fuck,” Till exclaims, hips jerking.

 

“Till, wait,” Angel says, putting a hand on his hip to slow his movements. Till pulls out of Richard’s mouth and Richard takes an open-mouthed gulp of much needed air.

 

He sits back, breathing heavily,

 

“Shit that was so close,” Till pants, wiping sweat from his brow with his forearm. “I knew you’d be a good cocksucker Reesh,” he teases gently.

 

"Shut up," Richard mumbles automatically. 

Several hours ago, he might have been offended by the comment, but despite his reaction he feels a surge of pride. He had almost made Till come.

 

“That was so hot,” Angel coos, stroking the back of his neck, “but I wanna have you both right now.”

 

She rolls over onto her hands and knees on the floor and wriggles her ass in invitation.

 

Till doesn’t waste a moment, settling down on his knees behind her. He reaches for his discarded pants on the floor and pulls a condom out of the pocket. He rolls it over his cock, still red and achingly hard from Richard’s efforts.

 

“You too, Richard,” Angel says, gesturing for him to come toward her.

 

He crawls over to her and stands on his knees in before her, stroking himself.

 

Till mounts her, pressing his cock against her glistening slit, and sinks in slowly. He and Angel moan simultaneously with pleasure, and Angel’s hips push backward against Till, her body swallowing him to the hilt.

 

She opens her mouth to accept Richard’s cock into her throat. Richard feels her muscles relax around him as his member disappears into her.

 

“Fuck,” he moans, one hand braced on her shoulder.

 

Till’s hips begin to move, one hand on each of Angel’s round ass cheeks, and each slow deliberate plunge pushes her forward onto Richard’s cock. Their sweaty flesh slaps together with each thrust.

 

Angel makes a blissful noise, muffled by Richard’s cock, and Richard knows he can’t last long. Especially not after all of the teasing he endured all night. He’ll be lucky if he lasts a few more seconds.

 

The two men thrust into her at each end, their paces gradually quickening. Till’s chest is slick with sweat and his mouth is open slightly, breaths growing uneven with impending orgasm.

 

Till looks up and his eyes meet Richard’s, sweaty bangs hanging in his face.

 

An electric pleasure pulses through his veins. He cries out blissfully as he comes in Angel’s mouth.

 

Seconds later, Till’s eyes squeeze shut with ecstasy and his body tenses up.

 

He groans, slamming Angel’s rear end snug against his lower torso a final time, large fingers digging into the soft flesh of her thighs.

 

Angel’s hand reaches down to finish herself off as the two men slowly withdraw from her.

 

Richard sprawls backward onto the floor, chest heaving, and Till slumps forward over Angel, hands reaching underneath to gently caress her and help bring her to orgasm.

 

Laying prone on the floor, Richard reaches with one hand to retrieve his cigarettes from the pocket of his crumpled pants and lights one, breathing the smoke in deeply.

 

“You were right about your friend, Till,” Angel giggles.

“What?” Richard asks absently, taking another drag before offering the cigarette to Till.

 

“Doesn’t matter,” Till replies.

 

Richard supposes it doesn’t.

 

Angel and Till sprawl out on the floor next to him, with Till in between. Till gathers them both in his arms possessively.

 

Richard’s cheek settles on Till’s sweaty chest opposite Angel.

 

He can hear his friend’s sturdy heartbeat in his ear, thudding against his cheek. It is the most content he's felt in a long time.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Till and Richard stumble back to the hotel to wind down for the night.

Richard opens his eyes. He must have nodded off, but he doesn't remember it happening.

 

As he becomes more aware of his surroundings, he notices the absence of the large warm body that had been sprawled out beside him earlier.

 

He spots Till standing near the door, one shoulder braced lazily against the wall. He is counting out bills from a roll in his hand and tucks what looks like a generous amount into Angel’s palm.

 

“I almost ought to pay you two for tonight,” she jokes. Till laughs quietly.

 

He kisses her gently on the cheek in parting.

 

“You can take as long as you need to collect yourselves,” she smiles at Till, closing the door quietly behind her as she leaves.

 

He hears Till humming softly to himself as he shuffles about the room, gathering their scattered clothing. Richard props himself up on his elbows.

 

“Oh good, you’re awake,” Till smiles, noticing him rise. “Shall we get the fuck out of here?”

 

“Yeah, I guess we better,” Richard replies groggily. “What time is it?”

 

“Late,” Till offeres, shrugging.

 

He stoops down next to Richard and places his clothing next to him in a pile.

 

“Thanks,” Richard smiles.

 

He sits up with some difficulty, noticing that his body feels heavy and uncoordinated.

 

“I still feel weird,” he tells Till. “What was that stuff anyway?”

 

“MDMA,” Till replies, pulling his pants up and zipping the fly.

 

“Hm. Well, I like it. But I wasn’t expecting to feel high for this long ,” Richard tells him.

 

Richard grabs his clothing and begins to dress himself, fumbling with the buttons on his shirt. Till takes a step toward him to help and Richard blushes, vividly reminded by this gesture of their exploits earlier in the evening.

 

Feeling self-conscious all of a sudden, Richard checks to make sure his hair isn’t sticking out all weird from when he slept and tries to mentally get himself together. What a weird night.

 

“Don’t forget your cigarettes” Till reminds him.

 

“Oh yeah, thanks,” Richard replies, scooping the pack up from the floor.

 

“I don’t wanna deal with you if you don’t have them,” Till says, in a half-joking way.

 

Richard laughs and lights one as they exit the room.

 

Richard spots Angel behind the bar as they leave the club and she gives them a wink and a wave.

 

Stepping out into the chilly night air, Richard shivers as the sweat in his hair cools. He decides to put on his jacket.

 

Holding his cigarette between his lips, his arms burrow around inside the jacket searching clumsily for the holes to the sleeves. Till grabs the shoulders of the jacket and holds it out for him.

 

“Here,” Till says, smirking.

 

“God, I would have sucked your cock a decade ago if I knew it would magically turn you into a considerate gentleman,” Richard teases, tangled in the jacket.

 

“Put your arm in your fucking sleeve already. You’re a mess,” Till laughs.

 

“That’s your fault. Now you have to deal with it,” Richard replies with an unapologetic grin.

 

The two stumble down the street side by side under the orange glow of the streetlights.

 

“I don’t even remember which direction our hotel is,” Richard admits, taking a final drag of his cigarette before flicking it to the ground.  He watches the little orange sparks scatter in the wind when it collides with the concrete.

 

“Two blocks that way, and then another block to the right, I think,” Till replies.

 

“How do you even know that? I’m so fucking cold. This is the coldest I’ve ever been,” Richard sighs, folding his arms over his chest to keep warm.

 

Till chuckles and places a heavy arm over Richard’s shivering shoulders.

 

“This stuff fucks with your sense of temperature a bit,” he explains.

 

“You don’t seem cold,” Richard replies, looking sideways at Till.

 

“I am, but I am but I’m not a little bitch,” Till smirks.

 

Richard rams into him playfully with his shoulder, sending both of them stumbling through a puddle.

 

“Don’t mess with me Kruspe, I can take you the fuck out,” Till teases.

 

“I doubt it,” Richard replies, even though he doesn't.

 

He admires the reflections of the neon lights in the water at their feet and the little ripples the raindrops make in them as they meander along together.

 

“Shit, you did it,” Richard exclaims suddenly, noticing the glowing blue letters of the hotel sign in the puddle at his feet.

 

“You sound like you were doubting my expert navigation skills,” Till says, raising an eyebrow as they cross the street.

 

“Yeah, I was,” Richard replies.

 

Till holds open the door for Richard.

 

They enter the lobby and Richard feels his body un-tense when a rush of warm air meets him. The two of them stand there for a moment, unsure of their next course of action.

 

Richard notices the man at the front desk giving them an odd look and figures they both probably looked a bit dazed and dishevelled.

 

“So,” Till said slowly, eyeing the ground, “are you going to bed?”

 

“I don’t know, I’m not really tired,” Richard replies, studying a small chip in the black polish on one of his nails.

 

That is a lie, but he feels reluctant for the evening to end, unsure of how he will feel in the morning when this strange spell is broken. He realizes all of a sudden that he is scared Till will pretend none of this had happened. Or worse, everything will be changed forever in a bad way.

 

“Would you like to come up to my room for a bit and smoke a joint?” Till offers, meeting Richard’s gaze with a nervous smile. Richard feels a surge of relief.

 

“Yes,” he replies quickly, inwardly cringing at how eager he sounded.

 

“Alright,” Till smiles.

 

Richard notices his friend’s posture relax when he accepts the invitation. It is easy to forget sometimes how self-conscious the older man could be when you get used to seeing him stomp around on stage like an angry bull.

 

They saunter over to the elevator and Till mashes the button a bunch of times. The man at the front desk shoots them a dirty look. The door opens and they step inside. Till presses the button for the eleventh floor and then curses.

 

“Oops,” he chuckles, pressing the button beneath it.

 

They step out onto the ninth floor and notice Paul in the hallway fetching ice from the machine. He laughs, taking in their appearance.

 

“Get to bed already, you degenerates,” Paul teases.

 

“Why don’t you?” Till replies, giving him a flippant wave as they stumble down the hallway past him.

 

Till rummages around in his pants pocket for the key card when they arrive at his door. He swipes it and the door clicks. He holds it open with one arm for Richard.

 

“Thanks,” Richard says, stepping inside. He shrugs off his wet jacket, tossing it on the table by the door.

 

The air inside Till’s room is cool. Richard can hear the hum of the air conditioner.

 

“Can I shut that thing off?” he asks Till.

 

“Sure,” Till replies, crouching down to rummage through his duffle bag on the floor.

 

Richard turns off the air conditioner and settles himself in the middle of Till’s bed, pulling the comforter protectively around himself like a cape.

 

Till rises from his duffle bag with a zip-lock bag full of weed, a pack of rolling papers and a lighter and sits down on the bed with Richard. The bed sinks under his weight. He plucks a small white paper from the pack, placing it on the nightstand, and sprinkles a pinch of crushed up leaves onto it.

 

Richard observes his friend from behind, watching the way his broad shoulders hunch forward as he rolls the joint. Gazing at Till, he thinks about the way Till’s body had covered Angel’s as he bent over her to fuck her. He wonders if he will ever see his friend the same way he used to after this night.

 

Till turns around to face Richard, pleased with himself, holding a thin joint between his thumb and index finger. Richard accepts it, placing it carefully between his lips and Till leans forward to light the end of it for him.

 

Richard inhales deeply from it and a cloud of smoke swirls out from between his pursed lips as he exhales. He coughs a couple times, careful not to drop the joint on the bed, and hands it back to Till, who takes a puff.

 

They pass the joint back and forth several times until it is a small burning ember that heats the pads of their fingers. Till places it in the ash tray on the nightstand and throws himself backward on the bed next to Richard’s blanket cave, tucking his hands behind his head.

 

Richard’s eyes are unfocused and everything is a soft glow. He tries to think of something to say, but when he attempts to gather words they slip away before they can congeal into coherent thoughts.

 

“I had a good night,” Till speaks finally, breaking the comfortable silence. He stares up at the ceiling thoughtfully, chewing on his lower lip.

 

“Me too,” Richard replies softly.

 

“Honestly, I completely forgot about that bitch and all the pain she's put me through.”

 

“That’s good,” Richard replies. “That was the point. I know you've been going through some shit lately, and I wanted to cheer you up.” He squeezes the edges of the blanket, clutching it tighter around himself.

 

“I, uh…” Till hesitates. “I hope none of this made you uncomfortable. I’m assuming you wouldn’t be here right now if it had,” Till says, looking over at Richard hopefully.

 

“No, it doesn’t make me uncomfortable,” Richard tells him, realizing the truth as he speaks it. “I guess I was a little surprised though. I didn’t know that about you. That you enjoy, uh...”

 

Till shrugs, looking down. “I don’t advertise it. And I mostly prefer women.”

 

“I thought I preferred women exclusively…” Richard trails off. “But now I don’t know.”

 

“So you are attracted to me,” Till’s face brightens, flattered by Richard’s admission.

 

“Yeah, I guess I might be. What does this mean?”

 

“It doesn’t have to mean anything,” Till replies simply, chewing on his thumb nail.

 

“What if everyone finds out?” Richard asks.

 

“If you don’t want people to find out, don’t tell them,” Till shrugs.

 

“How long have you been thinking about this? About me, I mean,” he asks Till cautiously.

 

“A while,” Till replies, without hesitation.

 

“Aren’t you worried about the reputation of the band?” Richard asks, and instantly feels stupid for saying it.

 

Till rolls his eyes.

 

“If you’re so concerned about what people will think, does that mean you’re considering doing it again?”

 

“What, a threesome?” Richard asks.

 

“No... With me,” Till replies, looking up at Richard again.

 

“I… um,” Richard hesitates, uncomfortable at being put on the spot.

 

“I want to return the favour,” Till tells him earnestly, ocean-coloured eyes searching Richard’s face.

 

“You mean….”

 

“Suck your cock,” Till laughs at Richard’s reluctance to say it out loud.

 

Richard hadn’t considered the possibility that Till would want to return the favour, but he decides he likes the idea. He wonders if Till is good at it. What difference does it make if it is a man or a woman, really?

 

Richard realizes he hasn’t given his friend an answer. Till looks anxious, like he is bracing himself for rejection.

 

“Yeah, I would… Wait, do you mean right now?” Richard asks.

 

“I’m pretty beat right now, but I would do it if you really want me to,” Till offers, placing a hand on Richard’s thigh.

 

Richard feels a twinge of pleasure in his lower body at Till’s willingness to please him, but he can also feel the weight of his tiredness tugging at the back of his mind. The joint has eased him into a sleepy haze.

 

“I don’t want you to do it if you’re tired. Plus, I’m tired too,” Richard admits, rubbing his forehead. “Some other time?”

 

Till nods. “You name it.”

 

Richard smiles. “Okay.”

 

“Are you still cold?” Till asks, eyeing the blanket nest engulfing Richard.

 

“Yeah,” Richard replies.

 

“Would you maybe want to have a bath?” Till suggests.

 

“Yeah, actually, that would be perfect right now,” Richard agrees.

 

Till rises from the bed slowly, stretching out his arms above himself with a groan, and then saunters over to the bathroom. Richard hears him turn on the water to fill the bath.

 

He sheds the comforter and makes his way to the bathroom.

 

Till has already undressed and is sitting in the tub while it fills with warm water.

 

His knees are folded up to make a space for Richard, but there still wasn’t much room left over. His large friend looks kind of silly in the little hotel tub. It definitely wasn’t intended for someone his size, much less two adult men simultaneously.

 

Richard strips off his clothes and Till watches him, head tipped back against the white tile behind him.

 

Richard steps into the tub, bracing himself with one hand against the wall. He begins to crouch down and then realizes the faucet would jam into his back if he sat that way.

 

“Come here,” Till says, patting his chest. Richard turns around, facing away from Till, and sits down carefully. He feels Till’s calloused hands on his shoulders, pulling him gently backward, snug against his chest. The hair on Till’s abdomen tickles the small of his back.

 

He can feel the gentle rise and fall of Tills chest underneath him. Till’s thick arms circle around his waist, resting on his stomach. Richard tips his head back to rest on Till’s shoulder and shut his eyes blissfully as he soaks up the heat of the water and his friend. He can feel Till’s stubble against his neck, and his warm breath in his ear.

 

He doesn't realize he has drifted off again until he feels Till nudge him gently awake. He lifts his head sleepily, looking around.

 

“Water’s getting cold,” Till tells him. “We better get out.”

 

Richard feels Till’s semi-hard cock pressing into the small of his back. He turns around to look at his friend incredulously.

 

“Sorry,” Till shrugs.

 

He gently pushes Richard forward to help him rise from the tub. After he had steps out, Till follows suit.

 

They dry themselves off with the white hotel towels and toss them on the tiled bathroom floor.

 

Richard can barely keep his eyes open. He steadies himself with a hand on the corner of the vanity.

 

“You might as well just stay here,” Till tells him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “You don’t look like you’ll make it to your room.”

 

“Mmkay,” Richard mumbles.

 

They don't bother to put on any clothing.

 

Till guides Richard toward the bed he collapses onto it gratefully, curling onto his side. Till lays down next to him and reaches over to the nightstand to shut off the light. With a click they are enveloped in a peaceful darkness.

 

“Reesh?” Till murmurs softly.

 

“Mmm?” Richard hums sleepily.

 

“Can I hold you?”

 

“Mmhm.”

 

Richard feels his friend roll over on the bed toward him, stomach pressing against his back. A heavy arm settles protectively over him, and he can feel Till’s mouth pressed against his neck.

 

Richard sighs happily and lets his mind drift off into a heavy sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so this is officially a multi-chaptered work now I guess! I skimped on the sexy compared to last time, but don't worry, it's gonna get hotter again in future chapters. Hope you guys enjoy the fluff in the meantime!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after, Till and Richard share their first sober sexual encounter.

Richard awakens to the sound of loud snoring.

 

It is unmistakably Till’s. He is in Till’s bed. Naked Till.

 

They are both naked. Everything floods back to him all at once.

 

He cracks one eye open slowly and winces at the light streaming through the slats in the blinds.

 

Till’s arm is still draped over his side, the way it had been when they had fallen asleep.

 

Richard smiles to himself. He never really pegged Till as the cuddling type, but it kind of makes sense. The man is very protective of the few people he trusts. He can feel his friend’s breath against his shoulder and the slow rise and fall of his chest in sync with each rumbling snore.

 

The blankets tangled around them are damp with sweat. The room had become warm overnight without the air-conditioner on and Till is radiating body heat. And there is something hot and hard pressing against the back of his thigh.

 

Till isn’t the only one with a morning hard on, and the sweaty skin pressed against Richard is worsening it.

 

He wonders if he can escape the clutches of the man behind him without waking him so he can take care of himself in the bathroom. He doesn’t want to prematurely end Till’s sleep.

 

Till lets out a particularly loud snore and Richard has to bite his lip to keep from laughing, but he isn’t entirely successful. Till sounds like a fucking bulldozer.

 

He feels the weight of Till’s head suddenly lift from the pillow behind him. Richard isn’t sure if his own snoring woke him, or if it was the way Richard’s torso had shook with suppressed laughter. His friend makes a confused noise, voice hoarse with sleep.

 

“Reesh?” Till mumbles sleepily.

 

“Morning,” Richard replies.

 

He feels Till’s head sink back down onto the pillow.

 

“I had a really nice dream,” Till sighs.

 

“Oh yeah?” Richard asks.

 

“Yeah,” Till replies. Richard feels his friend’s mouth curve into a smile against his neck.

 

“So?”

 

“So what?”

 

“So what was it?” Richard asks.

 

“It was about you,” Till admits.

 

“What about me?” Richard presses.

 

“You let me fuck you,” Till murmurs, hard cock digging insistently into Richard's leg.

 

The weight of Till’s arm on Richard’s side lifts suddenly, and his friend tugs the comforter down to their waists. A hand settles on Richard’s bare hip, holding him firmly.

 

He feels Till’s mouth begin to move along the column of his neck, up to the shell of his ear, stubble grazing the sensitive skin there. Richard breathes in sharply. His neck is one of his weak spots. It is as if Till can sense it, like a shark drawn to blood.

 

Till’s fingers dig into his hip and he rolls his pelvis against Richard. Richard’s spine arches automatically, ass pressing backward against Till. His face flushes when he realizes how wanton he must look. Till groans, evidently excited his response.

 

The hand on Richard’s hip glides down to cup his ass, squeezing it gently.

 

“Fuck, you have such a hot ass,” Till growls against his ear. “I wanna fuck you.”

 

Till’s words surprise him.

 

“Till, I can't...” he says softly, embarrassed. He isn't ready for this, and he can't seem to find the words to decline without insulting Till. Till's hips still immediately when he detects the uncertainty in Richard’s voice.

 

Till kisses the space between his shoulders tenderly.

He feels Till’s body relax against him, the sexual aggressiveness melting away into concern.

“I’m sorry I got carried away. I don’t want to pressure you into anything. You just turn me on so much. I can’t believe I can finally touch you like this,” Till murmurs.

 

His hand leaves Richard’s ass and roams upward to caress the muscles of Richard’s stomach.

 

“I want you too, I just… I don’t know what I’m doing,” Richard admits.

 

“I can teach you, if that’s what you want,” Till replies. A hand gently turns Richard’s chin toward him. Richard rolls over to face him.

 

Till’s hair is mussed from sleep and his eyes are half-lidded. He cups the side of Richard’s face, thumb resting on his cheekbone.

 

“Is that something you want?” Till asks Richard, bright eyes searching Richard’s face.

 

“I don't know. I mean, maybe...”

 

“I don’t want to fuck this up, whatever this is. If there’s anything you really don’t want to do, that’s okay,” Till reassures him.

 

“Good lord, you don’t have to treat me like a complete virgin,” Richard rolls his eyes.

 

Till chuckles.

 

“Fine, I won’t,” he replies, with a glint in his eye.

 

The hand on Richard’s face traveles swiftly to the back of his head, and Till’s fingers press into the sides of his neck. He pulls Richard toward him without warning and their lips collide in a kiss.

 

Richard realizes suddenly that they haven’t kissed before, despite everything else that had happened.

 

He feels Till’s tongue against his bottom lip and he parts his lips without thinking to allow it entrance. Their tongues meet, twisting against one another.

 

Till’s lips are soft, but the coarse hairs on his chin feel foreign against Richard’s face. Till deepens the kiss and Richard moans softly as Till’s tongue explores his mouth. His cock rises to attention again.

 

Till rolls on top of him without breaking the kiss. The weight of his body on Richard’s sends an unexpected current of pleasure to Richard’s groin. It feels good being underneath him. Unlike anything he's experienced before.

 

Balanced on his knees above him, Till gathers both of Richard’s wrists with one hand and pins them above his head. The other hand reaches down to fist Richard’s cock and begins to stroke him slowly.

 

Till’s eyes lock with Richard’s as he pleasures him.

 

“Fuck, Till,” Richard sighs, hands curling into fists.

 

The strong grip on his wrists and the way Till is staring at him hungrily heighten the pleasure building below.

 

“I’m gonna make you come. Do you want me to keep doing this, or would you rather I suck you off?” Till growls.

 

“Suck my cock,” Richard pants, and one side of Till’s mouth quirks upward, pleased by this response.

 

Till releases his grip on his wrists and stands up on his knees between Richard’s legs. He quickly gathers up all of the bedding and ploughs it out of their way onto the floor.

 

Richard tucks his hands behind his head.

 

Till grabs Richard’s ankles, pushing his legs up so that they bend at the knee, and settles on his stomach on the bed below him, propped up on his elbows.

 

Holding Richard’s cock, Till leans in and his large tongue draws a wet stripe that begins at Richard’s balls and slides upward to the head of his cock. His tongue circles the tip slowly as he lowers his mouth onto Richard.

 

Richard inhales deeply with surprise when Till takes him all the way in without hesitation. His lips form a perfect tight o around the base of Richard’s cock. He begins to bob his head up and down slowly, looking up at Richard to observe his pleasure.

 

Richard reaches down with one hand and cups the side of Till’s face. This appeares to encourage him, and he quickens the pace slightly.

 

Richard’s other hand clenches the pillow behind his head. Watching his friend’s head move up and down between his open legs is surreal.

 

His eyes fall shut with pleasure and he bites back a moan.

 

The hollow of Till’s cheeks, the way his biceps strain to support his weight, and the strong hand fisted around the base of his cock are too much.

 

Suddenly the hot wet heat on his cock is gone, and Richard’s eyes flutter open with surprise. Till is staring up at him devilishly.

 

“Beg me to make you come,” Till tells him.

 

It takes Richard a second to find his words.

 

“What?” he asks.

 

“You heard me. Beg me to make you come,” Till repeats. “Convince me.” He continues to stare at Richard, eyes unreadable.

 

“Fuck your stupid game Lindemann, come on!” Richard whines, cock achingly hard.

 

“That wasn’t very convincing at all,” Till smirks.

 

“What do you want me to say?” Richard asks, frustrated and embarrassed.

 

“That’s up to you,” Till replies.

 

“Seriously?” Richard isn’t sure what Till is playing at, but he desperately wants that skilled mouth around his cock again as soon as possible.

 

Till just smiles up at him, waiting.

 

“Come on, I really want you to keep going,” Richard groans.

 

“Not good enough,” Till says dismissively.

 

“Please,” Richard tries. He can tell Till is getting satisfaction from the urgency that is edging into his tone. That bastard.

 

“Please what?” Oh, fuck you Till.

 

“Please, make me come. Please, Till!” he moans. The frustration of being at Till’s mercy is unexpectedly arousing. He feels ashamed at begging, but he wanted nothing as badly as this.

 

He isn’t sure if it was his words, or the tone of his voice, but it seems to do the trick.

 

His cock is engulfed again and Till begins to work studiously to bring him to orgasm. A hand cups his balls from underneath, fingertips brushing gently against the cleft of his ass cheeks. Richard isn’t sure if Till is doing it that on purpose or not, but it sends him over the edge.

 

“Fuck!” Richard pants. He shoots into Till’s willing mouth, hand fisted roughly in his hair, and his friend’s adam’s apple bobs several times as he swallows Richard’s cum unflinchingly. Till sits up, looking pleased with himself.

 

“You asshole,” Richard breaths.

 

The bed shakes as Till flops down next to him.

 

Looking down, Richard realizes his Till's cock is still hard, neglected while he had been focused on Richard’s pleasure.

 

“Do you want me to, um…” Richard starts.

 

“Whatever you’re suggesting, the answer is yes,” Till grins.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Richard contemplates the events of the last 24 hours, and regrets going out for lunch while hungover.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look Mum! I wrote something that isn't just porn! Aren't you proud? (Sorry everyone else).
> 
> There may be a plot slowly developing here after all. But fear not, there will be more sexiness interspersed. 
> 
> Also, I'm a bit uncomfortable writing the rest of the band, so I hope it's passable. Suggestions and gentle critiques are very welcome.
> 
> Thanks for your patience and encouragement! Hope you enjoy.

Richard dresses quietly while Till is in the shower. He can feel the beginnings of a hangover nagging at him but the soft afterglow of the MDMA is holding it at bay for the time being. 

Till seems to be having a much harder time. Not surprisingly, since he drank significantly more. He could consume an appalling amount of alcohol when he was in a mood.

Richard knows he likes to be alone when he is feeling under the weather so he decides to retreat to his own room out of courtesy.

The blinds in Till’s room are drawn, but he guesses it is probably nearing afternoon based on the warm hue of the sunlight spilling through the gap above the windowsill.

The events of the last twenty-four hours feel surreal. If he weren’t in Till’s room, sheepishly collecting his things from his friend’s bedside table, he doesn't know if he could believe it happened.

His recollection of the evening is hazy, which worries him a little. He hopes he hadn’t made a fool of himself. But if he had, then Till probably had too, so that was somewhat comforting at least. 

He grabs his pack of cigarettes, noticing the other man’s crumpled pack on the floor by his feet. He decides to leave two for Till. He hopes it will buy him some time before he has to face the discomfort of the sunny outdoors in his current state to fetch more.

It had felt really nice to wake up next to someone familiar, someone who isn’t going to vanish from his life when the band moves on to the next city. Someone he can trust.

Whatever happened last night, he knows the secret is safe with Till. Nobody is more renowned for their ability to keep a secret than him.

On his way to the door, he turns to take one last look at the tangled sheets on the bed behind him and finds himself smiling.

When he opens the door to leave, dopey smile still on his face, he finds Flake on the other side, one hand poised to knock.

“Oh, hi,” Richard greets him.

“You’re here,” Flake states, lowering his hand awkwardly.

“Just heading down to my room. What’s up?” Richard asks.

Flake’s eyes narrow behind his glasses and he attempts to peer past Richard into the darkened room.

“You’re wearing the same clothes as yesterday,” Flake says, flicking Richard’s shoulder. 

“Yeah, long night,” Richard replies noncommittally.

“You guys weren’t fucking with drugs, were you?” Flake asks, scrutinizing Richard’s disheveled appearance.

“Uh…” 

Count on Flake to be so blunt. And damn him for always being so observant. He doesn’t have a good response prepared, but there is no point in lying anyway. He couldn’t pull anything on Flake at the best of times, and is probably incapable of bullshitting anyone in his present state.

His uncharacteristic lack of words proves to be all the evidence Flake needs.

“You two are idiots,” Flake sighs, “I thought you were past this stupid phase.”

“It’s not a regular thing. There’s no need to worry, okay?” Richard tries to assure him, but he feels his confidence shrivelling under Flake’s suspicious gaze.

Flake continues to stand there like a skinny little scarecrow, hands shoved in his pockets, blocking the exit.

“You were supposed to look after him last night,” Flake reminds him.

“I fucked up,” Richard admits. The look on Flake’s face makes his confession feel redundant. 

There is an awkward silence for a second or two that feels like an hour to Richard before Flake mercifully changes the topic.

“I came to find you because we were all supposed to go for lunch today. You were supposed to meet us in the lobby at noon.”

“Shit, what time is it?” Richard asks. He pats his pockets and finds them empty. He must have left his cell phone in his own room, or at the strip club. Fuck.

“Well, it’s not quite lunch time anymore, but I’m still hungry,” Flake says wryly. 

“You guys waited? You really didn’t have to.” 

“I know. I tried to convince everyone to go without you, but Paul insisted we wait,” Flake smirks.

“Okay, listen, I just need to stop by my room really quickly to get ready,” Richard tells him. 

The prospect of going out in public suddenly makes him keenly aware of the smell of sweat and alcohol on his clothes and it makes him feel a bit nauseous.

“If you go get changed, you’re going to take another hour,” Flake says flatly.

“It’s not going to take me an entire hour,” Richard scoffs, waving his hand dismissively.

“It will. That’s a fact,” Flake replies.

Richard decides to accept defeat. He feels bad for holding everybody up, and he has no hope of winning an argument with Flake. He is just going to have to endure this somehow.

“Alright, alright,” he agrees, checking his hair with one hand to see what state of disarray it is in.

“Don’t worry, you look stunning,” Flake tells him, in a very unconvincing monotone. 

His expression was deadpan, but Richard knows him well enough to spot the subtle cues on his face that mean his friend is having an inner laugh at his expense.

“Whatever, let’s go then,” Richard rolls his eyes, preparing to shut the door behind him.

“Is Till anywhere close to being ready?” Flake asks, craning his neck again to see into the room again.

“I really doubt it,” Richard shakes his head, “but I’ll check.”

Richard ducks back into the room and taps gently on the bathroom door. The shower is still running.

“Up for lunch?” he calls to Till through the door.

He hears a groan and then a mumbled curse, which he takes as confirmation that Till has forgotten about their lunch plans as well. His muffled voice on the other side of the door sounds tired and irritable, so Richard isn’t surprised when he declines.

“He said to go without him,” Richard reports back to Flake, who shrugs.

“Fine. I will.”

 

\--

 

Richard knows he should eat, but the smell of different foods mingling together is starting to overwhelm him, and the loud chatter from the surrounding tables is making him feel claustrophobic. Coming here had been a bad idea, he decides.

He scans the menu, trying to pick out something small so the others won’t hassle him about not ordering anything. His stomach doesn’t seem to know what to make of the situation. He feels nauseous and hungry at the same time.

“Are you gonna be okay there buddy?” Paul punches his shoulder playfully.

“I’m fine,” Richard replies quickly, straightening up in his seat.

“Oh. That’s weird, because you look like shit,” Paul laughs.

Richard pretends to ignore him.

“You know what’s supposed to be good for hangovers?” Flake chimes in.

“What?” Richard asks, looking up from his menu.

“A hot pork sandwich dipped in whiskey.”

Richard feels his stomach lurch. He sets his menu on the table and looks down at his lap, away from any reminders of food. He breathes deeply through his nose and tries desperately to imagine he isn’t in a restaurant. 

Clear blue ocean. White fields of snow. Smooth cold sheets. Non-nauseating thoughts.

Everyone at the table bursts out laughing at whatever expression he is making while he tries to will his nausea away.

“Oh, fuck you,” Richard shakes his head with disgust. “Why would you say such a thing?”

“No really, my treat, I’m sure they could make you one,” Flake grins. 

Richard supposes this is revenge for being negligent in his duty last night to keep Till out of trouble.

“I will snap your spine over my knee,” Richard threatens halfheartedly, rubbing his forehead.

“You don’t look capable of doing anything of the sort, Kruspe,” Paul grins.

“Test me, little man,” Richard retorts, but his unenthusiastic menace isn’t enough to make the smug grin on Paul’s face falter.

“Maybe you should get some tea,” Schneider suggests, clearly attempting to diffuse the situation. He looks slightly guilty for momentarily delighting at Richard’s torment.

“Hmm, yeah, tea,” Richard replies. He leans forward to rest an elbow on the table, cradling his head with his hand.

“Crazy night, huh?” Paul observes, playing with his fork.

Flake shoots Richard a look, silently daring him to tell the truth, or at least what he knows of it.

“You could say that,” Richard replies, feigning an interest in his menu again.

“What did you guys get up to?” Paul pries, artfully disregarding Richard’s reluctance to hold up his end of the conversation.

“Till took me to a place he likes, had some drinks,” Richard replies slowly.

He mentally tries to scrounge up other events from the night that he can share with the expectant table that aren’t overly incriminating, but all he can think about is the feeling of Till’s hands on his body and tangled in his hair. A blush creeps up his neck.

“Was it that strip joint a few blocks from here?” Ollie asks. 

Richard stiffens with surprise at Ollie’s shrewd guess. He can’t be sure if Ollie spotted his embarrassment or if Till was just too predictable, or both.

Richard nods, careful to keep his expression neutral. 

“And?” Paul prompts.

“And what?” Richard fiddles with his napkin, growing impatient with their questioning.

“Not a single tale you want to share, huh?” Paul chuckles. “Must have really been good.”

“I don’t kiss and tell,” Richard replies, taking the opportunity to signal a waitress to their table so he could order some tea. 

“Yes you do!” Ollie and Paul exclaim at the same time.

“You should get green tea. It's supposed to be good for hangovers,” Schneider interjects.

 

\--

 

It is a relief to leave the restaurant and get some fresh air on the way back to the hotel, even if it is too bright out. Richard instinctively lights a cigarette, vaguely aware of the irony.

“So, I guess tomorrow we move out?” Schneider says, adjusting his scarf as they venture into the chilly street.

“Yeah, bright and early,” Paul replies, as the group saunters down the sidewalk together.

The words “bright” and “early” make Richard cringe. He will have to make sure he isn’t in such a state for tomorrow. He is upset at himself for missing his morning workout, and for being such a mess in front of the others.

He doesn't understand how Till has managed to get drunk so many times recently on consecutive days. A pang of worry for his friend hits him when he thinks about it, and he realizes with full clarity how many nights in a row it has been.

He becomes lost in thought as the others chatter idly about their next destination.

“At least we can rest a bit on the bus,” Schneider says, looking sideways at Richard.

“Yeah, as long as Till’s not snoring,” Paul adds.

“Don’t count on that,” Flake says, and Paul laughs.

Their laughter snaps Richard out of his daze and he notices Ollie pulling a pair of sunglasses out of his inside jacket pocket.

“Hey Ollie…” Richard begins.

Ollie raises an eyebrow knowingly at Richard’s tone of voice. It pokes up over top of the frame of his sunglasses.

“Any chance I could convince you to let me wear those?” Richard looks up at him with the most charming smile he can muster under the circumstances.

“What’s in it for me?” Ollie replies with a smirk.

“Uh, you would be helping out one of your dearest friends… And, uh, it would ease my suffering greatly,” Richard tries.

Ollie pretends to think it over, clutching his chin.

“Nah,” he shrugs, and then laughs at Richard’s crestfallen expression. The others chime in.

“I’m just kidding,” he says finally, handing them to Richard, who puts them on eagerly.

“Those look hilarious on you,” Paul comments.

“Go fuck yourself.”


	5. Chapter 5

When Richard wakes up, his room is empty and quiet. He has no idea what time it is, but the sleep made him feel much better than before. Almost back to normal, except for the erection he now has from a very vivid dream about Till.

He strips down leisurely and enters the small washroom in his suite. 

He turns on the hot water and tests the temperature with one hand. When he is satisfied, he steps under the spray and exhales deeply, steam filling his nostrils.

He closes his eyes, ducking his head under the jet of water, and massages the product out of his hair.

His mind immediately drifts to Till, who he can't seem to get out of his thoughts since the other night. How has he become so obsessed in such a short time? What do these feelings mean? It worries him a bit.

He reaches for his cock, remembering the way Till had held it with his large rough hand.

He begins to stroke himself, thinking about the weight of Till’s body pinning him to the bed, and the patient but insistent way Till had forced him to succumb to pleasure.

How had he not seen it earlier? How had he not wanted this earlier? He had always been too wrapped up in impressing women to think about the other… possibilities when it came to sex.

Vapid cruel women who tended to make his life miserable, he laments. But he could trust Till. This made sense. This was good. How had he not seen Till like this sooner?

He imagines Till in the shower with him, the solid strength of his body behind him, pushing him up against the tiled wall. He imagines Till forcing his legs apart with a knee, hot mouth descending on the back of his neck.

His legs feel weak at the thought, and his cock throbs longingly.

He tries to imagine what it would be like to let Till fuck him. He hasn't been able to get those words out of his mind, ever since Till spoke them. He can't believe he's considering the possibility, but there's a part of him that won't let go of it. There's a part of him that is eager to find out what that would be like.

It must feel good, he reasons, otherwise why would people do that kind of thing?

Without putting much thought into it, he reaches for the bottle of hotel conditioner sitting on the ledge in the bath and squeezes a small amount onto his fingers. 

He pauses for a moment, looking at the tiny bottle in his hand, feeling ridiculous. He imagines what the others would say if they knew what he was about to do. Paul would have enough material to make fun of him for the next century. He dismisses those thoughts before they can ruin it for him.

It is awkward trying to reach between his legs in a standing position so he crouches down, hot water cascading down his back.

He places his slick fingers against his entrance, adjusting to the unfamiliar sensation of being touched there. His fingertips brush gently against it, exploring tentatively. It feels strange, but it doesn't feel bad. He wonders what it would feel like to go a little bit further.

He slowly begins to press one finger inward, but his muscles stubbornly refuse to relax. He remembers that he is supposed to take it slow.

He pictures Till standing over him by the tub, looking down at him as he strokes himself, giving him instructions in that silky confident voice. It sends a jolt of pleasure to his cock. He wishes Till were here to tell him what to do. He feels like a bit of an idiot, but he doesn't want to stop.

He begins to make small circular motions against the sensitive pucker with the pads of his fingers while his other hand tends to his cock, pulling on it with firm even strokes. 

It begins to feel more and more pleasurable. He had no idea it could be this good, this neglected part of him. Part of it is physical, and part of it is the knowledge of what he is doing and why. The more he thinks about letting Till do these things to him, the more his pulse races.

He wants more. He curls his index finger, pressing inward again. This time, his muscles allow his finger slide in slowly. He breathes in sharply with surprise at the strange sensation of being penetrated.

He imagines it is Till’s thick finger inside him instead of his own. He imagines the soft growl of Till’s voice, coaxing him to take more. Telling him he is almost ready for his cock. Gently slapping his ass. A soft moan falls from his lips.

The ring of muscle surrounding his knuckle burns slightly after he works his finger all the way in, and the mild pain mixed with pleasure makes his legs shake as he continues to stroke himself.

He closes his eyes, breathing heavily through his nose. 

He pictures Till’s cock. It would be equivalent to at least three fingers, probably more. His body shudders at the thought.

He begins to move his finger from side to side, gently teasing himself open further, imagining it is Till's experienced finger preparing him. 

When he buries a second finger inside, the burn returns, but it fades quickly and there is only the dull pressure of being stretched and a feeling fullness he has never experienced before. It's an added layer to sexual pleasure that he didn't know existed, and he lets out a shuddering breath with open mouth.

Working his fingers in and out, twisting them slightly, he imagines Till behind him, panting and cursing softly under his breath, hips bucking vigorously in a hard steady rhythm, fucking him into the bed. He imagines Till’s arm around his waist, or maybe a hand on the back of his neck, holding him in place firmly as he thrusts into him relentlessly. He imagines the feeling of being owned by Till, totally at his mercy.

He pictures the way Till would look on the verge of orgasm, brows drawn together, the top row of his teeth digging into his soft bottom lip, chest slick with sweat, muscles twitching. He imagines Till moaning his name as his hips finally still, buried deep inside. He wonders how it would feel if Till came inside him.

He comes hard, crying out as he loses control, spilling over his hand. He can feel the muscles of his ass twitching around his fingers as the orgasm washes over him.

Water streams down his face into his eyes and wet hair clings to his forehead but he can't bring himself to move from his crouched position yet, body trembling with the aftershocks of pleasure.

There is a small part of him that is ashamed of what he had just did, imagining how me must look, but mostly he is surprised by how much more intense his orgasm was than usual. He feels weak in the knees, unable to stand up yet.

He is struck with the realization that he has wasted years of his life neglecting this particular part of his body. And years of his life not knowing the potential his friend had to make him feel this way.

When he finally rises and towels himself off, lightheaded from his orgasm and the heat of the shower, he feels a surge of excitement. If it was this good imagining it, how good would it be to have the real thing? He is eager to see Till again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the shortness, but hopefully the pure sex made up for it somewhat. 
> 
> More to come. I apologize, I'm a very slow writer and my attention is pretty divided right now.


	6. Chapter 6

The sun gradually sank behind the row of tall buildings outside Richard’s hotel window, casting long shadows in the streets. He clicks on the lamp by his bed, bathing the room in its warm glow.

Schneider had called his room phone earlier to invite him out for supper, but he declined, opting instead to stay in. He plans to stop by Till’s room later and needs time to work up the courage.

He orders a light supper from room service and eats alone, picking at his food distractedly, television chattering in the background.

He orders a beer to go with his meal to ease his nerves, but only one, because he doesn't want everything to be hazy like last time. He wants it to feel real.

Till had made his intentions to continue this thing between them quite clear, but Richard has no idea how sober either of them were at the time, and the thought nags at him.

What if it was all a drunken mistake? What if he was being too clingy? He knows Till hates clingy women. He doesn’t want Till to feel that way about him.

He sets his empty plate aside and enjoys a post-meal cigarette, gazing out the window into the night.

Enough stalling.

He rises from the bed and sheds his robe, determined to get moving before he loses his nerve. He rummages through his clothes, picking out something to wear.

He wants to look good, but he also doesn't want Till to know that he’d put a lot of thought into it.

He decides on a newer pair of black jeans and a simple black v-neck t-shirt. The cut of the sleeves made his biceps look good, he figures.

Heading to the bathroom, he brushes his teeth and styles his hair. He decides not to fuss with it for too long because Till might remark on that too. Then he carefully applies a bit of black eyeliner, which he wears most days anyway. Till had mentioned several times that it looked good on him.

He takes a deep breath, examining himself in the mirror. He feels like a teenager all of a sudden, anxiously preparing for a first date.

This is stupid.

He scolds himself for being so worked up about it. It is just Till, after all. There is nothing to be afraid of. He turns off the light in the bathroom and grabs his keycard.

\-----

 

Richard taps on Till’s door with his knuckle, glancing up and down the hall apprehensively as he waits. He leans in, ear to the door, and hears some rustling from inside the room. Till is in there, in some state of wakefulness. That is good. 

Then he hears the low murmur of Till’s voice, and a bubbly female giggle erupts in response to whatever it was said.

His blood runs cold. If there is a woman in there, it could only mean one thing. His instincts tell him to walk away, immediately, before he is discovered standing there like an idiot, but he feels frozen in place with surprise.

Too late.

The door opens a crack and Angel’s face peeks out from behind it with half-lidded eyes. Her lipstick is slightly smeared, and it looks like she is having difficulty focusing on him.

“Oh hey, it’s you,” she slurs, looking him up and down lasciviously. 

He can't see into the room, but he can tell by the way she is holding the door that she is disguising her nudity.

“Oh—“ His mind goes blank.

“What’s your name again, cutie?” she quirks her head to the side.

“I...” he falters. His brain is scrambling to come up with excuses to leave, but his thoughts feel jumbled. This isn’t one of the scenarios he had planned for.

“Is that Reesh? Tell him to come in!” he hears Till’s voice from inside the room.

He sounds drunk.

Richard’s heart sinks as he processed this situation. The last thing he wants to do is go in there and deal with the two of them, like this. He wants Till, alone. And sober.

“Till says come in,” she smiles. She grabs him by the front of his shirt and pulls him through the door before he can protest.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt. I should go—“ Richard stammers, trying to ignore the sharp pang of hurt in his chest. Till had sought out her company and not his. Did he do something wrong?

“Reesh!” Till grins, looking up at him with delight.

Like Angel, he is fully naked, seated on the bed, hunched over the mirror on the nightstand. There is a dangerously large white line of powder laid out in front of him, and he holds a bill in one hand, ready to inhale it. There is a slight shake in his hand and a visible tension in the muscles of his body. Evidently he had consumed some cocaine already, prior to Richard’s arrival.

Sober, Richard can see it plainly now for what it is: self-destruction. Flake was right. Till is falling apart again.

His brain immediately wants to blame Angel, because he doesn't want to be angry at Till, but he knows that isn’t right.

He wonders, with a sinking feeling, how much of his perception of their last encounter is distorted. This doesn’t feel the same at all. This feels wrong.

“Hey, come join us,” Till smiles, gesturing with his free hand for Richard to come sit by him on the bed.

“I should go, actually,” Richard says again slowly, taking a small step backward. “I didn’t know you were, uh…”

He feels deceived, even though he has no formal arrangement with Till about sexual matters. He knows Till had no obligation to him at all, but he feels a surge of jealousy anyway that he can’t rationalize away.

It hadn’t occurred to him that Till would want to sleep with someone else so soon after their experience together, although it is rather typical now that he thinks about it. He feels incredibly stupid.

Till pats the bed beside him again impatiently, oblivious to Richard’s discomfort.

“Don’t worry, we’ll fix you up too,” he says, leaning forward to snort his line. 

He inhales it and sits up, dropping the rolled bill on the table next to the mirror, and sighs contentedly.

“Come on, sit down. Don’t pretend to be shy,” Till teases him, finally starting to noticing Richard’s reluctance.

“I don’t want any of that,” Richard says, eyeing the drugs resentfully.

“What? Why not?” Till asks, genuinely surprised.

“We shouldn’t be doing drugs this often. Or at all, really,” Richard replies carefully.

“Don’t pressure him, Till. There are plenty of other ways we can enjoy ourselves,” Angel smiles coyly, bracing an arm on the TV stand to steady herself. Richard notices a bottle of whiskey behind her, more than half empty.

They are both a mess, Richard thinks dejectedly.

He eyes the floor uncomfortably, unsure of how to respond to her advances. He wants no part in that. He wishes she would just leave so he could look after Till. He has to figure out a way to get the drugs away from him.

“Well, give him a drink then so he’ll stop being so mopey,” Till tells her. He looks at Richard with a lopsided smile. Richard feels anger begin to rise in him at Till’s patronizing tone and total disregard for his feelings.

“Mhm,” she hums agreeably, spinning around to grab the whiskey bottle behind her.

“No, thank you,” Richard tells her firmly, but the bottle is thrust toward him anyway. Angel fumbles, nearly dropping it, so he grabs it to save it from falling to the floor.

He tries to casually place it on the nightstand, but notices the pointed look Till is giving him. Sighing, he holds onto it awkwardly, but doesn’t drink from it.

“Why are you being so uptight? I thought you had a good time last time,” Till looks hurt now.

“Don’t be nervous, it’ll be just as fun as before,” Angel coaxes him, totally misinterpreting his body language. Her eyes flit between the two of them hopefully.

This is not turning out the way he wanted at all. But if he walks out, he’ll be alone in his room again, consumed by worry. There is no way he could sleep, wondering what is happening in here, wondering if Till is safe. He doesn’t know if he can handle that either.

He decides he can’t leave Till like this, as much as every fibre of his body wants to flee. 

Sighing with defeat, he trudges slowly over to the bed and sits down next to Till, careful to maintain a distance between them to demonstrate his displeasure with the situation. He needs to figure out a way to break this up.

“We have to get up early, you know,” he tells Till softly. He knows Till can become very argumentative on cocaine, so he has to tread carefully.

Till makes a frustrated sound, dismissing Richard’s comment with a wave of his hand, but he doesn’t seem angered.

“Reesh, I don’t want to think about that right now. Here, quit being so boring and just do a line.” 

He reaches for the small baggie on the table and begins to pour some more powder onto the mirror.

“I’m serious. I’m not touching that,” Richard says resolutely. He takes a small sip from the bottle instead to placate Till, grimacing at the taste.

It works. Till sets the baggie down.

“Pussy,” he chuckles, slapping Richard on the back.

“Yeah, okay,” Richard rolls his eyes.

Till snatches the bottle from him and takes a long swig, making a point of not wincing the way Richard had, and then passes it back to him. Richard pretends not to notice.

“So, you wanna have a go at fucking her this time?” Till offers. They both turn to look at him eagerly. 

“No, thank you,” Richard forces a polite smile, hoping it masks his disappointment. “I really think you should take it easy tonight, Till.”

“Do you want to watch us then? I’ll probably be good to go again in a few minutes,” he chuckles, looking down at his lap and then back up at Richard with amusement.

“I’d rather not,” Richard replies quickly, taking another swig from the bottle without thinking.

“How bout just you and me then?” Till offers, turning sideways to face him. Richard tenses. A part of him likes the idea, but not like this.

“No,” he says softly. His throat feels tight.

Till’s grin falters. It clearly isn’t the answer he had been expecting.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, surprised by Richard's rejection.

“I just don’t want to, okay?” Richard snaps, taking another swig from the bottle. 

“I can make it feel so good for you Reesh. Trust me,” Till tries, clearly still not understanding the problem. He reaches over to brush his fingers across the small of Richard’s back, but Richard pulls away from his touch.

“That’s not…what I’m worried about,” Richard replies, frowning.

“Oh, okay. Good,” Till looks relieved, but then confusion quickly creeps across his features again. “What is it then? You only fuck men when you’re high?”

“I don’t ‘fuck men’, plural, okay? You’re the only man I’ve ever been with, and I’m starting to think it was a bad idea. I wanted to spend time with you tonight, but I should probably just go, since you’ve already got plans,” Richard says bitterly, cringing at how emotional he sounds.

He hands the bottle of liquor back to Angel, realizing finally that he’d be drinking from it without meaning to. His façade is crumbling.

“For fucks sake! Why can’t you just relax and enjoy yourself? What's your problem?” Till sighs, rubbing his eyes with frustration.

“I can’t do this,” Richard says suddenly, standing up from the bed. Till grabs him by the shoulder and pulls him back down.

“Reesh, are you… jealous?” Till asks, the realization finally dawning on him.

Richard swallows thickly, unable to reply. He can’t bring himself to lie, and he can't confess his feelings - not like this - so he opts to say nothing.

“Shit, you are,” Till realizes, rubbing his neck guiltily. 

“Oh, that’s sooo adorable. Its okay sweetie, I’m no threat to you. He’s all yours,” Angel purs, offering him a smile that is meant to be disarming. 

“That’s not what it looks like,” Richard mutters, unmoved by her statement.

Till holds his hand out to Angel and she passes him the bottle. He takes a long swig and sets it on the nightstand with a loud thunk.

“Fuck,” he sighs, looking down at his lap. “I thought we were just having some fun together. I didn't know this was going to be such a big deal. I didn’t think this would upset you, Reesh, I really didn’t.”

Richard just shrugs, unsure if he can trust his voice to be level if he speaks. So it hadn’t meant anything to Till. He feels hollow.

“Come here, don’t be like that,” Till murmurs, reaching out to wrap an arm around his waist to pull him in closer, but Richard leans to the side, out of his reach.

“I’m gonna go. You should too,” he looks at Angel mistrustfully. “Can you please not be a mess tomorrow, Till? Flake is going to kill me. And you.”

He stands up quickly, keeping his face as neutral as he can, and makes his way to the door before Till can stop him again.

“Reesh, wait!” Till calls after him, but Richard doesn't turn around.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm cruel. But don't worry, this isn't the end. :3
> 
> PS: I'm second guessing the title of this story. It sort of made sense when this was a one-off (even though its pretty cheesy), but now I think I want to change it. Suggestions are welcome.


	7. Chapter 7

Feeling defeated and unsure of what to do with himself, Richard flops down on his bed. He can’t be bothered to take off his clothes or his boots.

He wishes his brain had an off-switch so he could stop mentally replaying the events of the past hour.

‘I didn't know this was going to be such a big deal’… Till’s voice echoes in his head. Fuck. Why had he made it into a big deal? Now Till probably thinks he is pathetic, trailing after him like a lost puppy.

He shuts his eyes, desperately willing sleep to come, but it is no use. He feels wide awake, and closing his eyes only makes it easier for his brain to imagine what is going on right now without him.

His lip curls with contempt. Till probably proceeded to shovel more drugs up his nose the instant Richard left. He iss probably completely trashed by now. Who knows if he’d even remember the confrontation they’d had by morning, but then again, maybe that wasn't such a bad thing. He hopes Till isn’t so fucked up that he’d forget to wear a condom with that whore.

He isn’t sure what makes him angrier: Till, for being so callous and reckless with himself, or him, for being stupid enough to believe that their encounters were somehow special – that they would mean more to Till than any of his countless other one-night stands. He is a fool.

He knows his jealousy doesn’t make sense. He doesn’t even know if he wants some kind of relationship with Till. He had sworn off relationships before all of this had happened. He enjoys sex with women as often as he can get it, and he appreciates variety as much as Till. It isn’t fair to ask Till to give that up if he isn’t prepared to do the same.

Expecting devotion from Till would be an exercise in disappointment anyway. Every woman he had supposedly been committed to had endured his countless affairs – it is clearly a promise he isn’t capable of keeping.

The only solution that makes any sense was to somehow forget about all of this, or at least pretend it never happened. But how can he do that? It doesn't seem possible anymore.

He’d felt so warm and wanted, tucked underneath Till’s arm in bed. Till had worshiped his body with that expert mouth like he was the most important person in the world. And the soft brush of fingertips on his skin, the re-assuring kisses on his chest and neck, the hand gently smoothing back his hair, those had felt like things that lovers do, not two friends getting each other off. This is too confusing.

He wants to be the only person Till does those things with. 

He wants to hold Till down and fuck him until the only word he can say is his name. He wants to grab him by the hair and pull his head back, bearing his throat, and mark him there with the suction of his mouth, where everyone can see. He wants to hear him say how much he needs it.

So much for forgetting about it. Richard realizes he’s become semi-hard, and he growls with frustration. He rolls over onto his back and glares up at the ceiling. This is torture. 

Sleep is clearly not going to be an option. He reaches over for the television remote on the nightstand and clicks on the TV. It is all just a bunch of meaningless noise and bright flashing pictures. He can’t pay attention to what is happening.

“Fuck!” he shouts at the TV, tossing the remote on the floor. The batteries spill out of it and roll under the bed.

He flips over onto his stomach and buries his head under the pillow, pulling it down snugly over his ears. All he can think about is going to Till’s room and kicking in the door. He’d throw Angel out into the hall, dump Till’s drugs down the toilet, and –

“Reesh?”

There is a faint voice and a knock at the door, sound muffled by the pillow.

His whole body stiffens with surprise. He yanks the pillow off his head and cranes his neck, listening intently.

“I just heard you. I know you’re in there.”

It is Schneider's voice. His body sags with disappointment.

“Yeah,” he calls weakly.

“So? Are you going to let me in?” Schneider asks.

Richard sighs, getting up from the bed reluctantly, and shuffles over to the door.

“Hey,” Schneider smiles when the door opens.

“What’s up?” Richard asks, trying his best to appear calm.

“Just wanted to see if you’re okay. You weren’t doing so good this afternoon, and then you skipped out on dinner. You alright?” He asks. His pale blue eyes glimmer with concern, and Richard doesn't know how he could possibly explain.

“I don’t know,” he replies honestly, examining the carpet.

“Did you eat?” Schneider asks, forcing his way past Richard into the room.

“Yeah,” Richard replies absently.

“Okay, well that’s good. You still feeling sick?”

“I’m sick of Till’s bullshit,” he sighs. He really doesn't want to talk about any of this with Schneider because he can’t even tell him the half of it, but the words slip out of him somehow.

“What do you mean? The drugs?” Schneider asks, taking a seat on the edge of Richard’s bed. 

“Flake told me,” he adds, sensing Richard's worry.

“Yeah. That’s one thing. He’s definitely not in control,” Richard snaps, pacing up and down the entrance-way.

“We should have a band meeting about it tomorrow on the bus. See what he has to say for himself,” Schneider suggests, eyes following Richard apprehensively.

“We’ll see what he has to say for himself when it takes all five of us to drag his ass out of bed in the morning. He’s going to be a wreck. I’m sure it’ll be a real pleasant conversation,” Richard mutters.

“He’s out partying tonight? He knows we have to leave early,” Schneider frowns. “Where did he go?”

“He didn’t go anywhere. He’s getting fucked up in his room with some stripper,” Richard growls, unable to hide his disdain.

“Well, fuck it. Let’s go break it up,” Schneider suggests.

“No thanks,” Richard tells him, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“Well, what do we do then? Should I call him? I could remind him he has to be up early?” Schneider asks.

“He knows that. I doubt he’ll listen to you,” Richard replies bitterly.

Schneider shrugs and reaches for the hotel phone on the bedside table. He punches in the number for Till’s room and waits, head cocked to the side. Richard holds his breath.

Finally, after several rings, Till picks up. His voice is loud and hoarse on the other end. Richard can hear him plainly, even though the phone is pressed against Schneider’s ear.

“Reesh? That you?” Till slurs. “I’m sorry, please come back—“

Richard feels the blood drain from his face, cursing himself for not anticipating this possibility. He prays Till won’t blurt out anything incriminating. His hand tenses, ready to grab the receiver from Schneider.

“No Till, it’s—“ Schneider is interrupted.

“She’s gone, Reesh. I just want you. I’ll make it up to you. Come over?” Till’s sorrowful voice pleads.

She is gone? Did he hear that correctly?

“Uhh…. He... I think he wants to talk to you,” Schneider doesn’t know what to make of this information. He looks sideways at Richard and slowly hands the phone over to him.

Richard’s face flushes with embarrassment. He snatches the phone from Schneider, fumbling with it in his haste. 

Schneider looks perplexed, but he didn’t comment.

“Okay-- Okay, I’ll come over,” he agrees quickly. He doesn't wait for a reply. He hangs up before Till can embarrass him further.

He looks up at Schneider guardedly, bracing himself for a slew of questions, but Schneider simply offers him a gentle smile. Richard can’t tell if he suspects anything or not. He's always been a bit hard to read.

“Well? Are you going to go talk to him?” he asks, eyes searching Richard’s face.

“Guess so,” Richard replies.

“I’d offer my support, but it sounds like he really wants to talk to you. I don't want him to feel like we're ganging up on him, that might make it worse,” Schneider tells him, rising to leave.

“Yeah, I’ll see what I can do,” Richard says, walking Schneider to the door.

"Thank you," he adds quietly, as Schneider disappears down the hallway. Schneider looks back at him and gives him a joking salute.

"Good luck!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for another short one, but posting as regularly as I can helps me keep my momentum going. Will update again as soon as possible! Cheers.


	8. Chapter 8

“…Reesh?”

“Yeah, it’s me. Open up.”

Richard hears heavy footsteps trudge toward the door and then it swings open abruptly.

Till stumbles forward and braces an arm on the door frame to steady himself. He still hasn’t bothered to put on any clothes, and looks to be in even worse shape than Richard had anticipated.

“You came back,” he slurrs, regarding Richard blearily with heavy lidded eyes. 

Richard can smell the liquor on his breath from where he is standing.

“Wow,” Richard frowns, shaking his head.

“…What?” Till asks, blinking slowly several times.

“Nothing. Here, come inside,” Richard instructs. He places a hand on Till’s shoulder and ushers him into the hotel suite before any unsuspecting passerbys can catch an eyeful.

He steers Till through the room, guiding him to the bed, and helps sit him down next to the heap of twisted sheets. He shoves them aside resentfully before taking a seat.

Till leans forward, bracing his elbows on his knees, and exhales loudly through his nose.

“So, you wanted me to come over.”

“Jus’ want to say m’sorry,” Till murmurs, looking sideways at Richard from his hunched position. Strands of hair hang in his face, obscuring his eyes.

“Okay.”

Richard presses his lips together and hunches over to untie the laces of his boots, examining the ugly patterned carpet of the hotel room floor.

“Please… say something,” Till begs, eyes listlessly tracking the motions of Richard’s hands.

“This is the worst you’ve been in a while,” Richard comments, looking up at him. 

He tosses his boots aside with more force than is necessary.

“Won’t see her anymore, if… if that’ll make you happy.”

“That’s not what I meant. We don’t need to talk about that right now.”

“But—“

“I’m more concerned about whatever is happening with you,” Richard says curtly, lighting up a cigarette. He takes a long drag, sucking in the smoke hungrily like it is the solution to all of this.

“…What d’you mean?”

“This has gone too far,” Richard gestures at the drugs on the table beside them. 

“M’fine, Reesh,” Till replies indignantly, pulling a face. “We all do it once in awhile, why’re you singling me out?”

Richard sighs, gripping his knee. He had been worried this would happen. That his own drug use would appear hypocritical when a confrontation like this inevitably occurred.

“It’s not just ‘once in a while’ with you though, is it?” he asks darkly. “How many times have you been fucked up lately? Do you even know?”

Till looks like he is trying to mentally compute the answer to this question, eyebrows drawn together with thought, but becomes visibly frustrated when he finds himself unable. 

“I don’t keep a fuckin’… spreadsheet, okay?” he mutters finally, rubbing an eye irritably with the ball of his fist.

“It’s been pretty much every day, Till, for too long now,” Richard informs him.

“Mm. If you say so,” Till replies, looking away.

“Coke, MDMA, is there anything else I should know about?” Richard asks, raising both eyebrows.

Till’s nose scrunches with exaggerated offence.

“I don’t take MDMA all the time, Reesh. Got that for you. I knew you’d like it.”

He reaches clumsily for Richard’s thigh, but Richard catches his hand and pins it to the bed before it can wander to any regions of his body that will make this situation even more complicated. 

Till smiles distantly to himself at Richard’s touch regardless, content with any form of physical contact.

“I liked it,” Richard admits begrudgingly, taking another drag of his cigarette. “But I don’t like it when you’re like this.”

“…Whad’you mean?” Till demands.

“Come on, Till. Don’t kid yourself. You can barely stand right now, for fuck’s sake,” Richard snaps.

Till scoffs, pushing back his hair in an effort to look more composed.

“That’s an exaggeration.”

“No, not really,” Richard smiles grimly, tapping his cigarette on the edge of the ashtray.

“What’s this? What’re you trying to prove right now? That you’re better than me?” Till huffs, squinting at him suspiciously.

“I care about you,” Richard replies plainly. “And this is bullshit.”

Till takes a moment to process the words, chewing on his lip, and his green eyes soften.

“I… I care about you too Reesh.”

Richard forces a smile.

“Then prove it. It’s time to clean up your act.”

“M’gonna,” Till replies softly. He hangs his head, unable to look Richard in the eye any longer.

“When?” Richard demands.

Till shrugs without looking up.

“Soon?” he tries.

“Soon isn’t good enough, I want you to commit to this,” Richard replies.

“Gimme a fucking break, Kruspe,” Till groans, rubbing his face vigorously with both hands.

“You can start right now,” Richard proposes, squeezing Till’s hand for encouragement.

“What ‘m I supposed to do, toss out perfectly good drugs?” Till replies incredulously.

“Yeah, actually. Don’t you think you’ve had enough?”

“That’s just stupid. Jus’ let me do a line, it’ll help sober me up a bit,” Till tells him.

“You wouldn’t have drank so much to begin with if it weren’t for that shit. Are you not noticing the vicious circle happening here? Everyone else has,” Richard points out.

“You’re really starting to get on my nerves, Reesh,” Till sighs.

“Let me fucking help you,” Richard demands.

“Don’ need your help. Didn’t ask for it. I’ll do it when m’ready,” Till growls, pulling his hand out from underneath Richard’s.

“That’s exactly why you need my help. You’re never going to be ready. It’s like last time, when you kept saying ‘soon, soon’,” Richard rolls his eyes.

“Starting tomorrow, okay? I’ll… I--” He sniffs loudly and wipes at the bottom of his nose with his hand.

“Please.”

“S’hardly any left. What’s the fucking difference?” Till presses.

“You know I can’t just sit here while you do that, given the sorry state you’re in,” Richard tells him, stubbing out his cigarette. “You’ve had enough.”

“Help me finish it then?” Till tries. 

“Either you get rid of it, or I’ll do it for you. Those are your choices,” Richard tells him, crossing his arms.

“You’re jus’ trying to piss me off, I swear,” Till replies coldly, sitting up straighter.

“What? You think I want you to be mad at me?” Richard splutters.

“Yeah. This is some kind of stupid revenge, isn't it?” Till accuses him.

“I’m not happy with you, but I’m still here, putting up with your drunk ass, aren’t I? Now quit being a fucking idiot,” Richard frowns, pointing a finger at him angrily.

“S’my fucking life,” Till growls. “Jus’ mind your own business!”

Richard's hand shoots out before he can even think about it and seizes Till’s shoulder. He uses his other hand to turn Till’s face toward him forcibly. Till eyes widen slightly at Richard’s touch. He looks like he is expecting a punch, and Richard isn’t too far off from delivering one.

He can hear his heartbeat pounding in his ears. 

Do it, you fucking coward - his brain screams, but suddenly he isn’t sure any more if he wants to punch Till or pull their faces together. He is too cowardly to do either. 

He swallows thickly. His body feels frozen in place. He doesn’t even dare exhale. Till just stares at him listlessly, waiting for Richard to make the next move. 

Then he realizes how hard his fingers are digging into Till’s shoulder. He quickly lets go and lights up another cigarette with trembling hands. Dangerous words had been on his lips. 

Till’s eyes darken when they break contact and Richard is taken aback by the pain that shines from within them. Richard's heart sinks as he watches the other man’s expression harden, withdrawing into himself. 

“I don’t know what’s going on in your head right now, but you need to know that we love you. We’re gonna help you through this, Till. Okay? Whatever it is.”

“No one can love me,” Till replies finally in a low voice. He stares hard into Richard’s eyes for a moment before turning his head to look away.

“I—“ Richard’s hands drop to his lap.

“Maybe you should just go,” Till mutters.

Richard’s throat feels tight with emotion, but he isn’t going to be pushed away so easily. He isn’t going to let Till have his way.

“Last chance,” he replies shakily, pushing his feelings down. “Are you gonna get rid of this shit, or am I going to do it for you?”

“Just go! Get out of here!” Till demands. His hands tighten on the edge of the bed.

Richard stands up suddenly. Till doesn’t look up, content to let Richard walk away unimpeded.

“This is for your own fucking good.”

In one fluid gesture, he uses his arm to sweep the drugs off the nightstand table onto the floor. The mirror lands upside-down with a thud and a small cloud of white powder billows out from under its edges, speckling the carpet as it lands.

His heart races with vindictive satisfaction, but dread begins to rise in him as Till slowly registers what happened.

Till reels backward slightly with surprise but his face quickly contorts with anger. He rises unsteadily to his feet. 

“What the fuck!” 

Richard turns on his heel and makes his way toward the liquor on the TV stand before Till can get his bearing. Till staggers behind him, aware now of what is about to happen, but he is too slow. Richard snatches the bottle by the neck and stomps toward the bathroom with it.

“Stop!” Till pleads.

“I warned you,” Richard shouts over his shoulder.

Till stumbles along after him, using the TV stand for support.

“Reesh, please, wait!”

He feels Till’s hand on his shoulder but he pries it off angrily. He quickly twists the cap off the bottle, raising it over the sink. 

He feels the crook of Till’s arm circle around his neck from behind. Till’s bicep bunches against his throat, pulling him backward away from the sink. Till is heavy, even if he isn’t coordinated enough to put up a proper fight, and takes all of Richard’s strength to remain upright with his weight hanging off his neck.

“Put it down! Just calm down!” Till demands, but Richard ignores him.

Holding the bottle out at arm’s length, he tips it sideways and the amber coloured liquor splashes into the sink.

Till growls with frustration. He tries to use his free arm to grab the bottle out of Richard’s hand but their arms collide and he knocks it loose from Richard’s grip. They stagger sideways together, Richard trying to free himself and Till trying to catch the bottle as it falls. It hits the edge of the vanity with a loud bang and shatters into glass shards that scatter across the tile floor.

“Kruspe, you fucking—“

“Shit!” Richard cries out.

He feels a sharp spike of pain in the bottom of his foot and realizes he’d stumbled onto the broken glass.

Unable to support himself and Till without putting weight on the injury, Richard sinks to his knees, groaning with pain. Till tumbles to the ground next to him, arm still wrapped around Richard’s neck.

“Get off me you fucking idiot!” Richard growls, tugging at Till’s arm.

“What the fuck, Richard – ” Till rages, but his anger immediately shuts off when he noticed the smear of red Richard’s sock has smeared on the tiled floor. 

“– Shit, you’re bleeding,” he breathes. He releases his hold on Richard instantly, the sight of blood breaking him out of his trance.

“I know that,” Richard snaps, propping himself up.

He leans forward and turns his foot over to inspect it, carefully peeling off the sock that is quickly becoming wet with blood.

There is a piece of glass sticking out of the tender area in the middle of his foot. Small rivulets of blood trickle over the curve of his heel and splatter in large drops on the white tile.

“Don’ move,” Till tells him.

He scrambles to his feet using the doorknob to pull himself up and staggers into the other room. The zipper of Till’s duffle bag opens and Richard can hear him rifling around inside it.

“Like I have a fucking choice,” he snarls to himself, clutching his throbbing foot. He can feel his pulse at the opening of the wound.

Till returns, bumping into the door frame as he re-enters the bathroom. He is clutching a roll of gauze and a pair of tweezers. He sinks gracelessly to the floor next to Richard with no concern for the glass scattered around them.

“Shit, be careful!” Richard scolds him.

“M’good at this kind of thing,” Till tells him, squeezing Richard’s shoulder. He hunches forward to squint at Richard’s foot, tweezers in hand.

“I don’t doubt that, but there’s no way I’m letting you play doctor on me when you’re this wasted,” Richard rolls his eyes. He snatches the tweezers from Till before he can try anything.

Till sits back on his haunches and allows Richard to do it himself, watching intently.

“Shit…” Richard whispers, trying to position the tweezers at the right angle.

“This is my fault… Fuck…” Till sighs, rubbing his face with both hands.

“Yeah, that's true. Now shut up so I can concentrate,” Richard mutters.

He clamps down on the piece of glass with the tweezers and gives it a slight tug, but it doesn't budge. Pain rips through his foot and he gasps, nearly dropping the tweezers. His hand begins to shake.

“It’s fucking stuck,” he moans, voice beginning to rise with panic.

“I’ll get it, Reesh. I can help,” Till offers again, reaching for the tweezers.

“Don’t!” Richard hisses, leaning away from him defensively.

“Okay, okay,” Till replies, raising his hands. He shrinks back slightly, startled by Richard’s anger. 

Richard takes another steadying breath and re-positions himself carefully. He clamps onto the shard of glass again and begins to pull with slightly more force, gritting his teeth as it begins to come out. Blood starts to trickle more rapidly from the wound. 

It comes free and Richard drops the tweezers to the floor, exhaling deeply.

“You gotta wash it out. Here.”

Till bends over so Richard can swing an arm over his shoulder for support. Richard pulls himself up off the floor with Till’s help, clutching the edge of the bathtub mistrustfully in case his balance is off.

He steps into the tub, seating himself carefully on the edge, and sticks his injured foot under the faucet.

“Turn it on.”

“S’gonna hurt,” Till tells him, placing a hand on the tap.

“Hurry up and do it,” Richard replies impatiently.

Till cranks the water on and it courses over the open wound. Richard winces and sucks in a breath through his teeth. Red tinged water pools by the drain. His leg begins to shake and his grip on the edge of the tub tightens. He shuts his eyes to distract himself.

“Okay, that’s enough,” he says finally. Till obediently shuts off the water, and Richard shifts around on the edge of the tub so he is seated the opposite way.

Till sinks to one knee in front of him, holding the gauze.

“Lemme help you. Please,” he murmurs, placing his hand on Richard’s knee.

“Fine.”

Till fumbles with the gauze, wrapping it around Richard’s foot as carefully as he can manage. He glances up occasionally at Richard’s face, trying to gauge how much pain he is in as he proceeds. After he finishes, his movements still. He sits cradling Richard’s foot in his lap, staring at it as if unsure what to do next.

“… M’gonna go get your boots for you,” Till says finally, when Richard refuses to break the silence first.

“I’m not leaving.”

Till’s head jerks up with surprise.

“But I… Why would you—“

“I don’t think you should be alone right now,” Richard tells him.

“I deserve to be alone,” Till mutters, hanging his head. 

“Fuck, stop it.”

“You’re wasting your time... You’re wasting your love on me,” Till says quietly.

“Quit being so dramatic. That's so typical. Stop talking and help me to the other room,” Richard demands.

Till sets Richard’s foot down carefully and clambers to his feet. He extends a hand to Richard to help him up. Richard takes it and stands up carefully, placing a hand on Till's shoulder for support.

“It’s not that I don’t love you, Reesh, I just—"

“I’m going to stay here to make sure you don’t choke on your own vomit in your sleep or something. And the only thing we’re going to talk about is whether or not you need rehab. Or you can just go to sleep. Your choice.”

Till falls silent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy shit, I am truly the worst! I can't believe how long it took me to update this again. I am so sorry! And thank you so much to the people who kept gently prodding me to continue. This exists entirely because of you.


End file.
